Of Wands and Magic
by nicevenn
Summary: A new tee-shirt is the latest rage at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Crack. Inspired by this tweet by WTFSexFacts: "My 'I've played with Harry Potter's wand' T-Shirt slogan got rejected on the grounds that it is offensive."


**Of Wands and Magic**

"Ron?"

Harry heard the sound of a page turning as Ron continued to peruse _Fifteen Surefire Ways to Light Her Cauldron_, which he'd purchased clandestinely while shopping for school supplies a few weeks earlier.

"Ron," Harry repeated, a little louder this time.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think people are actually going to wear them?"

"Wear what?"

"The shirts," said Harry. "I don't suppose everyone's forgotten them by now."

Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely. George says they've been flying off the shelves even faster now school's about to start."

"Great." In his mind's eye, Harry saw a slowly revolving rack piled with dozens of tee-shirts in myriad colors, all with I'VE PLAYED WITH HARRY POTTER'S WAND written in sparkling letters on the front.

"The girls love them." George had grinned for possibly the second time since Fred's death. "And some blokes," he'd added with a wink.

Catching sight of the dark hole in the side of George's head, Harry had realised he didn't have the heart to protest the sale of this latest addition to the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes inventory.

Another page rustled as it was flipped by reverent fingers. Harry sighed and fluffed up his pillow, then gave it a punch for good measure. "I bet Malfoy's going to get a good laugh out of it."

xoxoxo

It was just as Harry had feared. Every third student boarding the Hogwarts Express was wearing a tee-shirt that claimed its owner had played with Harry's wand. Many of them giggled as they passed by; others smirked. Some were indeed blokes – good-looking blokes, in a few cases.

As he settled into his seat, Harry couldn't help but fantasise about the unfamiliar sandy-haired boy that had brushed past him as he waited for Ron and Hermione to enter the first available compartment. His cock was quick to respond to the stimulus; within a few minutes, he was reaching into his trunk in search of his Invisibility Coak.

"I need some air," he told Ron and Hermione, and he fled before they could ask what was wrong.

There shouldn't have been any obstacles on Harry's path to the loo. After all, he was invisible. But, as luck would have it, even that wasn't enough to protect him from the sneering git that was Draco Malfoy.

"Your wand's sticking out of your cloak, Potter."

Harry stopped and looked down at himself, but he was completely invisible. There was no way Malfoy could have seen either his real wand or the other, treacherous one that was trying to poke a hole through his trousers. "Hey, how did you –?"

"You're about as quiet as a troll."

Malfoy's words barely registered; Harry was too busy mouthing what was written on the other boy's shirt: HARRY POTTER WORKED HIS MAGIC WITH _MY _WAND. Malfoy was leaning against the door of his compartment with a bored expression, as if he'd been waiting hours for Harry to pass by. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Gregory Goyle's heads were visible through the window.

Harry didn't remember seeing any of those shirts at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He pulled off his cloak and let it drop to the ground. "Where did you get that? And _why_ are you wearing it?"

Malfoy smirked. "It's the same one everyone else is wearing, only I charmed it to say this. Because it's the truth." He raised a brow, challenging Harry to argue.

Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried, and failed, to formulate an appropriate response.

When Malfoy spoke again, his voice dropped a few notes. "I say it was rather greedy of you, wresting my wand out of my hand, but never letting me handle yours."

Harry gulped. "Er – what?"

Malfoy took a step towards Harry, backing him into the wall of the train. "What do you say, Potter? Shall we find an empty compartment where we can play with our wands?"

There was no doubt about it: Malfoy had to be under the influence of some kind of love potion. He would not have suggested such a thing otherwise. But even so, Harry would have been mad to choose a lonely wank in the loo over a mutual one with an attractive blond.

"I rather like that idea," Harry said. He expected at least a sneer, if not full-blown laughter, but neither ever came. Instead, Malfoy's mouth crashed against his own and the other boy pushed him in the direction of the nearest unoccupied compartment.

As soon as the door and blinds were shut, Malfoy pulled down Harry's fly and slipped a hand inside his trousers. Harry arched forwards for more contact, already close. He was going to embarrass himself, but that didn't matter at the moment. All he cared about was Malfoy's tongue slipping past his lips, hot and wet, and his fingers squeezing just so as he rubbed up and down the length of Harry's shaft.

Harry only managed to get in a few thrusts before his hips jerked and he spurted come all over their clothes. His muscles felt as if they'd turned to jelly, so he collapsed against Malfoy, holding on to his shoulders for support. But rest wasn't an option; Malfoy expected him to return the favour. He pushed Harry down onto one of the seats and settled between his thighs.

It was a challenge to reach inside Malfoy's trousers while he was humping Harry like a randy Hippogriff. Harry's hand made it inside the other boy's underpants just in time to be covered in spunk. Only when the pulsing stopped did their lips unlock, and it was then that Harry realised they'd been snogging the entire time. Malfoy's lips were shiny and swollen, and it was all Harry could do not to lean forward and kiss him again.

Harry's eyes traveled down from Draco's face to his chest, where new words had appeared on his shirt. HARRY POTTER AND I PLAYED WITH EACH OTHER'S WANDS.

"If we did anything else, would the text change?" Harry asked.

"Just... give me... a moment," Draco said, his chest heaving, "and you'll find out."

The End.


End file.
